


Love Is Good Soup

by totallyrandom



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: College Student Stiles, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Family Feels, Fluff, Getting Together, Grocery Shopping, M/M, Pack Bonding, Pack Family, Pack Feels, bonus sex chapter, deaton gives good advice for fucking once, derek and stiles make dinner for the pack, derek and stiles play house, pack dinnner, smooches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-29 04:43:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5116100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyrandom/pseuds/totallyrandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is for a prompt from the lovely <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/MisanthropicKitty/">MisanthropicKitty</a>:<br/>Pack dinner of a big homemade stew and everyone is full and happy and all of a sudden Derek is metaphorically smacked up side the head with ***family***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MisanthropicKitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisanthropicKitty/gifts).



> The title is from a line in the musical _Once_ : “Love’s all very well but in the hands of people it turns into soup.” ([oncemusical.com](http://oncemusical.com))
> 
> Billy: Are you married, Eamon?  
> Eamon: Yeah, I am, actually.  
> Manager: Still in love?  
> Eamon: Yeah.  
> Billy: Fair play to ya. That’s great.  
> Manager: Good soup.

It’s the first pack gathering where everyone’s been home since college started. Some of them had come back for random weekends, but Stiles was in the middle of a research project over fall break, and Lydia went to London over Thanksgiving. So this is the big homecoming. 

Derek feels some pressure to make it special. Wants to make sure the pack ties can survive the next three-plus years. Needs to show everyone what they have here to come home to once they graduate. If they want. He’d never force that on anyone, of course. So, carrot not stick. Hmmm, carrot soup, maybe? Do people actually eat that? 

Derek doesn’t know how to cook at all, but he knows that providing for the pack is symbolically important. He doesn’t hunt, though, so that means he’ll be cooking. It was Deaton’s advice, one of the few suggestions he’s ever offered without someone begging for help. 

Stiles was with him at the time because they were there to get plant cuttings for the pack garden they’re planning. Derek still can’t believe Stiles is keeping straight A’s even though he’s triple majoring in horticulture, Latin, and mythology. At least one good thing came from having to juggle high school and Beacon bullshit all those years. 

Derek wonders if Deaton dropped his order-masquerading-as-advice in front of Stiles on purpose so Derek couldn’t back out. In any case, he’s following through on it. Now he’s here. Unpacking and washing four giant slow cookers. They’re _programmable_ and hold 6 quarts each.* And it’s a ceramic bowl that goes inside a metal casing with buttons on it. A crock pot isn’t actually a pot, apparently. And what does it mean by programming? Derek has no idea. He’d tuned out the whole conversation beyond hearing Stiles insist that it was important. 

“Dude, being able to program this shit is gonna _save your life_. I’m serious Derek. You’re gonna thank me. Hopefully with edible food.” And then Stiles winked at him … 

Almost everything Stiles says is hyperbole, but he’s also right about things an unnerving amount of the time. Derek worries sometimes whether it might be a bit _unnatural_ , but he’s too grateful to question it.

Now Derek has to prepare for feeding ten people, plus himself. Stiles’s tells him to make one pot of chili, two of beef stew, plus one of lentil soup “for the vegetarians and those with heart problems.” The Sheriff is going to be so disappointed. The rest of the food will be potluck and apparently the pack has already received their assignments via text. 

The whole pack will be there: Derek, Stiles, Scott, Allison, Boyd, Erica, Isaac, and Lydia. Cora’s not coming, but he’s trying not to read too much into that. And Lydia isn’t sure if she’s successfully convinced Jackson to come back and visit, but he’s not sure what to hope about that. He wants Lydia to be happy but Stiles says, at length, that it’s more the idea of Jackson she’s in love with than the actual lizard--er, person. No one has confirmed yet about family coming to dinner, but Derek assumes only the Sheriff and Melissa will show, and that’s only if they’re not on duty. If Jackson’s here, Danny might come, too, though. 

So, anywhere from eleven to … fifteen or so? That sounds intimidating. Stiles tells him not to worry, printing the recipes he got from America’s Test Kitchen and emailing him a shopping list. He’s been assured he just has to cut things up, dump them in the pots, and “program” them. 

He calls Stiles from the grocery store for help picking out good produce. Stiles shows up but it’s not like he’s any better at it, so Stiles googles tips as they shop. And provides a buffer between Derek and anyone who looks like they might hit on him. Given the way he’s plastered to Derek’s side, Stiles must think that’s pretty much everyone in the store. 

“So, uh, you already bought plates and bowls and silverware and shit, right?” 

“ … Not yet?” 

“Oh. ’Kay. … Want me to go with you this afternoon?” 

“Yeah. That would be great. … Thanks.” 

“Anytime, big guy.” 

Stiles jokes about them going to pick out china together. He blushes and growls, “It’s not china, Stiles.” And Stiles winks at him. Again. 

“You like this one? Black, to match your wardrobe.” The asshole grins at him. 

“I don’t care. As long as there’s enough for everyone and it’s sturdy.” 

“ … Ok. … Internet recommends Corelle? Dishwasher safe and you can apparently drop it and it won’t break.” 

“So it’s Stiles-safe?” 

“Har har. Oh, hey. These handle bowls are cute. You should get some. Not for this. Just a small set for later. Like for leftovers. Look how cute they are.” 

“ _Fine_ ,” he sighs. 

“Attaboy. Ok, tacky and bad-for-the-environment Solo cups or like actual glasses?

“I guess I might as well get glasses to go with the real plates. And drinking out of plastic tastes awful.”

“Good choice. But fuck cloth napkins, dude. Sorry, planet. Oh, and you still need silverware. Not actual silver, because that shit has to be polished, and just … _why_ , you know?”

He assumes Stiles isn’t expecting an actual answer, so he just follows with the cart. 

“Do you, uh, have real knives and shit? Like, a knife block with decent knives?” 

“Stiles, I don’t have any of this. You know that.” 

“Uh, I actually _don’t_ know that, dude.” Stiles looks confused for a minute. “I’m not sure I’ve ever even been in your kitchen.” 

“Really?” 

“Really. When I’m thirsty, you actually bring me something to drink, like a civilized host.”

“You’re not a guest; you’re … pack.”

“You don’t sound so sure about that, dude,” he mumbles. But Derek isn’t quite paying attention anymore. He thinks about the rest of the pack and his kitchen. He doesn’t serve them drinks or food when they come over. Even _Lydia_ helps herself. 

“You’ve really _never_ been in my kitchen?” 

“Yeah, no.” He just stares at Stiles because that answer makes no sense. Stiles rolls his eyes. “ _Yeah_ it’s true that _no_ I’ve never been in it. I never noticed.” 

“Me either,” he breathes out shakily. Coughs to cover it. 

“ … So, knives?” 

“Just pick out whatever. Knives, silverware, whatever you think we need.” 

“Seriously, dude?” 

“Yes, Stiles. Just get it so we can go.” He checks out until they reach the checkout, not paying attention to anything until he has to load the purchases into the Jeep. Stiles helps him bring everything in and starts unpacking things for him to wash. There’s so much here: dishes and knives and silverware and big bowls and cutting boards and plastic containers with lids and a million other things, including … a Batman mug? 

“Dude, that one’s mine. Permanent dibs. I mean, you can use it when I’m not here if you want. But no one else.”

“Thank you for permission to use a mug I bought that lives in my house.” 

“MINE, Derek,” he says, unnecessarily fiercely. It sends a shiver through Derek. “ … Ok, so, I’ll come back in the morning and we’ll get this all started.” 

“Ok.” Stiles just grins at him and walks out. Derek stares after him, wondering if tomorrow is going to change everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I can’t cook anything unless it’s something I can dump in [my slow cooker](http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00GMF6IOE).


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Derek’s trying not to fall asleep while reading the slow cooker’s manual when Stiles pulls up. 

“Dude, don’t worry about reading that. We’re just going to set it on low for like eight hours and then it will kick over to keep warm after that. C’mon.” 

They pull out all the ingredients. Stiles refuses to do any of the chopping. He’s apparently only there to supervise. 

“Dude. Knives? Me? We do not have time for a trip to the emergency room. Well, I mean, we will. But not until after everything’s already cooking. So … I’ll just set the table, ok?

“Why are you teaching me to cook if you don’t know how to cook?”

“I make Dad do all the chopping at home and I take care of the rest of it. By which I mean that I measure shit and follow the instructions.” 

So they double check the recipes and dump everything in and turn the cookers on. And then there’s nothing to do but wait. 

“So, we’ll have to taste it later and make sure it isn’t too bland or whatever. But not for a few hours. You want me to just come back later, or you want to come grab some lunch? The good thing about this is you can just leave the cookers going when you’re not home.” 

“Oh. That’s safe? That’s good. … Lunch is ok.” 

“Good, you’re buying.” And there’s that grin again. Derek thinks this may be the most anyone has ever smiled at him, outside family. And that was a long time ago. It’s disorienting, the idea that something he does might make someone happy. 

They go for chicken fingers and fries and then drop off a salad at the precinct for the Sheriff. Derek stands awkwardly in his office while Stiles tries to peek at the crime board. They stay while he eats, mumbling about how there better be some steak at dinner tonight. Stiles laughs at him and gives him a hug before they leave. The Sheriff claps Derek on the shoulder and thanks him for including him in the pack dinner. 

“Of course, sir. You’re always welcome to join us for any pack gathering.” The Sheriff’s smile is almost as blinding as his son’s. Derek feels a bit lightheaded. Stiles pushes him gently toward the exit. 

Stiles whines about Derek not having anything to drink at the house but water “and the pack isn’t bringing stuff over for hours,” so they stop for some seltzer and juice just to shut him up. It doesn’t quite work as intended. 

“Beer, Derek. Cooking would be much more fun with beer.” 

“I’m not giving alcohol to the Sheriff’s underage son a few hours before he comes over to my house. And we’re not really cooking.” 

“Sorta not true on both counts. I’m not underage. I’m not a minor. I can vote. I’m just, you know, a little under twenty-one. I’m an adult. I can drink in your home. I’m … I’m not a kid anymore, Derek. You get that, right?” Stiles clenches and then releases his fists a few times then sighs. “Aaaaaaaand we’re gonna taste-test shit and add spices and crap.* That totally counts as cooking for anyone under thirty. … You’re not as old as you act, dude.” 

“I didn’t even own real dishes until yesterday, Stiles. I’m not sure anyone considers me an adult, much less an old man.” 

He glares at Stiles, who stifles a laugh and collapses against his shoulder. He shoves him off toward the Jeep. 

When they get back to the house, they tinker with the soups on and off for a few hours as they talk about the past semester and update each other about how the others are doing. Between the two of them, they seem to have a good handle on all the various pack members--as though they’d arranged ahead of time to split them up. But they hadn’t. Derek finds that more than a little disconcerting. 

About an hour before the pack is due to arrive, they do a final taste and Stiles deems everything “totally adequate.” Derek agrees that they’re fine. Stiles says they’ll get better at it, as though they’re beginning a cooking adventure together. Derek turns away suddenly to wash the dishes. 

“Dude, I can’t believe you don’t have a dishwasher.” 

“I have one. I just hate the sound.” 

“Awwwwww. Does it huwt youw widdle weahwoof eaws?” 

“Ha ha. Go watch tv or something.” 

“Nah. Move over; I’ll dry.” 

“You don’t have to.” 

“I know.” And there’s that smile again as Stiles presses up against his side as they work in tandem. 

“After dinner, we should sit outside for a while so we can run the dishwasher.” 

“Ok.” 

“Ok,” Stiles says quietly, and Derek wonders if he’s agreed to something other than dishes. 

They watch an episode of Jeopardy and then the pack starts rolling in. It’s loud and warm and good. So good. All of a sudden, his house feels like a pack home. His pack feels like they’ve finally clicked. Like coming back after being away and seeing that everyone else is still here too has reassured them of each other. 

He looks at everyone talking over each other and passing food around and all of a sudden it feels like home. Even without Cora here tonight, he’s surrounded by family. This is his family. It’s overwhelming in the best way. He looks at Stiles, who turns toward him as though he can feel Derek looking at him. When he catches his eye, Stiles beams back at him. Derek’s heart skips a beat and the wolves’ heads all snap to look at him. 

Stiles starts coughing like he’s dying and it diverts everyone’s attention. He points his empty glass at Derek and raises an eyebrow. 

“Let me get you some water,” Derek mumbles, grateful for a chance to step away for a moment. 

“Thanks dude.” Stiles winks at him when he comes back, as though they’re sharing a secret from the rest of the pack.

After dinner, Stiles shoos everyone out and makes them promise to come back tomorrow to watch a movie with them and eat up the leftovers. Then the two of them start cleaning up. Derek starts the dishwasher and grabs two beers, leading Stiles outside. 

“Dude, I’m not even gonna tell Dad you’re afraid of him because he’d be insufferable.” 

“So it runs in the family?” 

Stiles laughs so hard he almost spills his beer. Derek wraps a hand around Stiles’s wrist to steady him and Stiles gasps at the touch. He pulls away and they both take a long drink and look out toward the woods. 

“Thanks for all this. I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

“Oooooooobviously.” 

“Why did you?” 

Stiles sets down his empty bottle and looks him in the eye. “I have a vested interest,” he says quietly before laying his head on Derek’s shoulder. Derek turns and smiles into his hair. 

“Quit smelling me. That’s creepy. Also cheating. It’s not ok that you always know how I’m feeling but I never know about you.” 

“Liar.” He lifts Stiles’s chin and presses a soft kiss to his lips then pulls away and lifts an eyebrow. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

Stiles gives him a shy smile. He seems to have run out of words, for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I don't do paleo shit, but this site has a useful description of what various spices taste like: [ paleoparents.com/featured/tutorial-thursday-herbs-spices](http://paleoparents.com/featured/tutorial-thursday-herbs-spices/).


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise bonus chapter!

They sit outside awhile just enjoying the nice night. They nurse their beers, leaning in close to talk. About the pack, the future. Stiles has a whole mental picture of what the pack will look like in five years. Predictions of who will come home, who will need to go away for grad school, who needs to try life away from the pack before coming back. He thinks Cora will come home eventually, merge her new family with theirs. 

Derek falls in love with that vision and hopes that this is one of the times Stiles is right. They talk about how they’d handle bringing new people into the pack, expanding the pack. How the pack will fit into the community once everyone’s home. Who will open a law office, join the force, teach school, run the newspaper. If newspapers still exist then. 

Derek hadn’t thought that much about their future. Never has, really. Everything always felt so moment-to-moment. Dire. Terrifying. Hopeless. Even after life calmed down, he always saw something looming in the not-so-distant future. Even if all that had been looming was something as innocuous but life-altering as high school graduation. He'd figured that would be where it would all fall apart. The pack would leave, dissolve. And he would be the lone wolf protecting Beacon Hills. Or he’d get fed up and leave. Or, more likely, he would die. He wouldn’t have minded, really. As long as his death protected the pack. As long as they made it out. Out of high school. Out of Beacon Hills. 

“That’s so fucking morbid, dude. Seriously.” 

“It’s _realistic_.” 

“It’s _pessimistic_.” 

“Not really. Just reasonable predictions based on experience.” 

“C’mon, last semester of high school was totally chill. And that summer after, too.” 

“Brownies. Selkies. _Witches_. And that time you accidentally gave Scott a tail.” 

“Ok. But by comparison, totally easy problems and very little violence. And the tail was hi- _larious_. And it’s been super calm here since then, right? … You haven’t been keeping secrets, right?” 

“No, it’s been fine.” 

“ … And you’re waiting for the other shoe.” 

Derek shrugs. “Trying not to jinx anything.” 

“Yeah. Good call. But I think we should just enjoy it while it lasts and hope it lasts forever.” And there’s that grin again. He wants to kiss it right off Stiles’s face. 

“Ready to head back in?” 

Stiles swallows hard, nods. Derek gives him a hand up and drags him inside. They drop the bottles in the sink on the way to the bedroom. 

Stiles lets out a shaky breath and Derek raises an eyebrow in question. 

“Yes. Absolutely. 100 percent. _Yesssssss_.” 

Derek shakes his head and strips out of his shirt. Stiles just stares for a minute. When Derek’s hands drop to his belt, Stiles gets with the program. Soon they’re standing by the bed, a foot apart, naked. Their eyes roam greedily. Hands and mouths follow as they collapse onto the bed. 

It’s over quickly, like all things long overdue. But they’re not tired. They spend hours exploring each other, never managing more than single words. Words like “holy” and “fuck” and “yes” and “pleeeeeeease.” They yell each other’s names ecstatically. Whisper them reverently. 

They fall asleep curled around each other and wake up in a tangle of limbs. They barely have time for a shower before the pack shows up for lunch. And then twenty-dollar bills are being passed to Scott. 

“ _Asshole!_ You’re splitting that with me, bro.” 

Derek just raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Shut your face, Derek. You know you love me.” 

Derek hides his face in Stiles’s shoulder for a minute. When he looks back up, everyone’s passing twenties to Lydia.

**Author's Note:**

> The [Broadway cast recording for _Once_](http://www.amazon.com/Once-Musical-Original-Broadway-Cast/dp/B007EMBEUM/) is fucking amazing. And the [Spotify session the London cast did](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hjKpaeWJQR0) makes me wish they had recorded the whole show, too, because I <3 [Declan Bennett](http://www.declanbennett.co.uk/) so fucking much. I'm obsessed with his album [Record:Breakup](http://www.amazon.com/Record-Breakup-Declan-Bennett/dp/B004UVD8L8/).


End file.
